


Scheming

by Choke-a-Bro (Vanya_Deyja)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Vignette, asshole life, pre game, slice of life in your favorite evil empire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21778543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanya_Deyja/pseuds/Choke-a-Bro
Summary: Verstael does a lot for the betterment of their schemes but sometimes he even gets to have a little fun.
Relationships: Verstael Besithia/Ardyn Izunia
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Scheming

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, sorry I disappeared for like two weeks. My eyes were hurting really bad so I had to go to an optometrist and that sucked. I have been writing but not much because it hurt so I had to fix eyes, then write stuff to post and now I'm back!

Lawrence Kilwinning is up and coming and he seems to think he’s just hit the jackpot. He saunters up to Verstael, shit eating grin at the ready, and starts;

“I wouldn’t expect to remain the Chancellor's favorite much longer, Besithia.” He greets.

Verstael glances up casually, giving the spoilt brat a once over.

“I don’t recall commencing a conversation with you,” he drawls blandly.

“I only want to say things are changing around here and—“

“Oh, he fucked you? Cute.” Verstael smiles like an amused parent.

“I—“ the kid falters, “we had a connection. It was dangerous.”

Verstael snorts like he’s just heard an infant tell a dirty joke they don’t quite understand.

“Right, of course,” he permits. “So you must know all about him then? His background? His nature?”

“What’s—? I know enough!” The young lord flusters. 

Verstael laughs outright this time.

“So that’s a no then? Well...” he sits back with his drink, completely unthreatened. “Just to be honest, kid, but I think you’ve fundamentally misunderstood the difference between ‘_made love_’ and ‘_fucked_’.” 

Lawrence Kilwinning flushes. This obviously isn’t how he expected this would go. He seems, all at once, to be appreciating his naivety.

“Next time you want to shoot me down? Come with some actual ammunition. Not some half-baked notion of seducing away my lover of twelve years.” Verstael sips his wine.

“You—“ Lawrence puffs up.

“Just to be clear; this conversation is over.” Verstael glances coldly. “Now scram.”

Lawrence bunches up his face, hikes up his robes, and stalks away in a rage.

Verstael snorts, like he just wiped something off his shoe and finishing his wine slips up from his seat to disappear back into the crowd.

Ardyn meets him amongst the eighteen foot curtains at the far end of the grand dance hall.

“Did you…?” Ardyn supposes.

Verstael allows, just for a second, his perfect expression of aloof disinterest to crack into a smug little smirk.

“Oh, well,” Ardyn snickers, “judging by that expression he’ll be out for blood within the week. What did you say?”

“Trade secret,” Verstael smirks. “Did you get your half of the information?”

“Ugh, yes.” Ardyn sighs. “But I suspect you had a much better time. Boy won’t _shut up_. I thought when I got his pants off—”

“Apparently your cock isn’t the incentive it used to be to make boys shut up.” Verstael teases.

“Evidently so!” Ardyn bemoans, mortally wounded; at least by drama queen standards.

“Good job,” Verstael praises all the same. “I know it was such a hassle.”

“You say that as if you’re joking,” Ardyn snorts, “_it was_.”

“All the same,” the blonde shrugs. “Shall we go drink?”

“I think so,” Ardyn presses his hand against the small of Verstael’s back, pivoting him around.

God it’s good to be bad sometimes.


End file.
